It Ain't Easy
by smallearthcat
Summary: McCoy proposes to Kirk. On the bridge. In front of everyone. Kirk/McCoy slash.


McCoy stands in the turbolift, shifting nervously as he waits for it to get to the bridge. He doesn't like that he's nervous, because this really shouldn't be any big thing. Well okay, it should, but it's still not something to be that nervous about. Jim loves him (even if neither of them is that fond of saying the words), and it's not like he's never proposed before. Of course that was a lot easier since Jocelyn hadn't really been the type to like spectacles, so he'd just popped the question over a quiet dinner one night.

Jim, on the other hand, is all about the spectacle, and everyone knows it. He likes having attention focused on him, which is usually just fine with McCoy since it means he's less often the center of attention. This time, though, it'll be the both of them, and if it doesn't go well...

No. He won't think like that. Jim will say yes, of course he will, because even he's not enough of an asshole to turn down a proposal in front of his entire staff of senior officers. Right? Right.

The door to the turbolift opens, and McCoy stands frozen for a moment before he can make his feet move. Finally, he manages to get onto the bridge and to his usual spot behind Jim's chair, where he can linger without anyone batting an eyelash. Not that he'd notice at this point anyway, since he can't seem to focus on anything but Jim. He's boring holes in the back of Jim's head, and he's kind of surprised that Jim can't seem to feel the weight of his stare.

McCoy doesn't know how long he stands there fidgeting, but eventually he just can't take it anymore. If he's going to do this, he needs to do it now. Otherwise, he needs to just get his ass back to sickbay where he can grump around for awhile and work up the courage to try another day. He walks around to stand in front of Jim, who looks up at him.

"Bones? What's going on?"

Shit, this is too hard; he can't do it right now. What the hell was he even thinking? There's no way Jim is ever going to say yes, so there's no point in making a fool of himself at all, let alone in front of the entire bridge crew.

McCoy drops down on his knee and produces a simple gold engagement ring, holding it out to Jim. Jim's eyes widen almost comically. "What...are you...?"

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you? Fine. Jim, would you do me the honor of agreeing to be my husband?" McCoy doesn't mean to sound as gruff as he does, but it's difficult not to. Gruffness has always been his way of protecting himself, and he needs that protection now more than ever.

The entire bridge crew has fallen silent and no one moves, the only sounds coming from the Enterprise's consoles. And why the hell isn't Jim answering? Doesn't he know how nerve-racking this is? Of course he doesn't; it's not like he's ever proposed before, the bastard. If he's purposely drawing this out...

All of a sudden, Jim launches himself out of his chair and latches onto McCoy, toppling them both to the floor. He's grinning in a way McCoy isn't sure he's ever seen before - completely happy and carefree - and their faces are inches apart.

"Damnit, Jim. I'm a doctor, not a gym mat." The words lack their usual bite, but McCoy couldn't care less. Jim's all but said yes.

"You're damn straight I will, Bones." And then they're kissing, fiercely and passionately, while everyone starts clapping. Jim pulls away a little, and McCoy might almost think he was embarrassed, if it weren't for the next words that come out of the mouth that's suddenly right next to McCoy's ear. "You are getting so lucky tonight." Like they don't both get lucky most nights.

Jim grins and waggles his eyebrows before lifting his weight and struggling to his feet. He extends a hand and helps McCoy up as well. Everyone else has seemingly gone back to their duties, so McCoy slides the ring onto Jim's finger and kisses his hand, causing Jim's smile to soften just a touch. And as he heads back to sickbay, McCoy can't help but smile, himself.


End file.
